


Fifty Shades of Gold

by TheWaywardSong



Series: Fifty Shades of Gold [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: BDSM, But it's actually not, Dom!Yuuri, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Minor Angst, Minor pining, Miscommunication, More tags to be added, Mr Katsuki will see you now, PG til the last chapter, Phichimetti, Sub!Victor, VictUuri, but not a lot, chris and phichit play matchmaker, fifty shades au, kinda slow burn, there is still some skating, victuri big bang 2018
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-05 22:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16376354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWaywardSong/pseuds/TheWaywardSong
Summary: Victor is a college student who finds himself sitting across from famed engima Katsuki Yuuri, who exudes eros with every word that falls from his mouth. It's easy to be smitten, but not easy to figure out where he stands when the mogul is constantly pulling him close and pushing him away. But does he really want to know what the business mogul is hiding?"Mr. Katsuki will see you now..."





	1. Mr. Katsuki will see you now

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Victuri Big Bang 2018
> 
> Check out the amazing [story art](http://eros-nocturna.tumblr.com/post/179309939984/oh-wow-lookie-here-i-finally-posted-so-sorry) by Eros-nocturna (@ice-raccoons).
> 
> Thank you to my beta, my other half, [FromStarlightToDust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FromStarlightToDust)

> **Top 30 under 30**
> 
> **Katsuki Yuuri—** **_Olympic champion, model, entrepreneur_ **
> 
> _ Katsuki Yuuri became a household name following his second Olympic gold medal at age 23. The following year the skater announced his retirement, though he continued to model for several athletic brands before launching his own line at age 25. Katsuki earned his MBA that same year and began to devote his time to his family’s thriving hospitality management group, which has experienced phenomenal growth since Katsuki took his father’s place as CEO. While the former skater is no stranger to the spotlight, much of his personal life remains a mystery despite his close friendship with one of the largest names on social media, Phichit Chulanont. Some have suggested that their relationship may go deeper than a longtime friendship between two former skaters. Katsuki put rumors to rest with a post from his rarely used social media platforms where he maintained that Chulanont was like a brother to him and that he preferred to keep his romantic life private. _

 

“Mr Giacometti?”

 

Victor looked up from the magazine to find the Korean man from earlier, Seung-Gil he remembered, peeking out from the hallway. 

 

“Follow me please,” the man chirped, retreating back down the hallway as Victor shoved the magazine back on the table and scrambled to get his bag on his shoulder. Well, it wasn’t  _ his _ bag, and he certainly wasn’t Christophe Giacometti, who had secured an interview with the most notable names in the business world to top off his senior thesis. No, Christophe Giacometti was at home snuggled under blankets downing a bottle of cold medicine like his life depended on it, while he screamed at reruns of  _ Chopped _ on TV. Victor Nikiforov was currently following Seung-Gil at a brisk walk, down a collection of hallways painted in the same pale mix of gray and blue.

 

“Lots of blue,” Victor remarked, more to himself than the man in front of him but Seung-Gil responded in a clipped tone that matched the click of his steps.

 

“Soothing color, good for nerves, good for anxiety.”

 

Victor nodded along, more for his own sake since Seung-Gil was already halfway down the next hallway, stopping abruptly so that when Victor did catch up he nearly smacked into the back of the man’s perfectly pressed suit. Seung-Gil raised one brow carefully, expression still disinterested as he placed a hand on the frosted glass door beside them.

 

“Mr. Katsuki will see you now,” he bristled, swinging the door open and ushering Victor inside.

 

When Victor woke up to his roommate hovering over him, looking like death itself on the day of what Chris had been currently referring to as the “most important day of his life involving a school related activity that wasn’t graduation,” he hadn’t had time to do any research before agreeing to take Chris’ place. Sure, Victor had helped Christophe practice questions, and was subject to his gushing on how Katsuki’s business model was the perfect subject for his thesis on business evolution. He knew that the man was a young enigma, and thanks to the article in the magazine he perused while he waited, he now knew that the man waiting inside those frosted doors was a former Olympian.

 

The magazine had been informative, a lone tabloid piece in a sea of business compilations, the most exciting of which were Forbes and Time. A few of the “30 Under 30” had done photo shoots, including Phichit Chulanont, who had posed with his hamsters surrounded by sunflowers and the plushies he had kept from his skating days. Unfortunately, Katsuki Yuuri hadn’t done the same, which made sure that Victor’s nerves were at an all-time high when he stepped into the threshold of the office, pushing past the glass doors into an office just as pristinely furnished as the others he had passed on his way down.

 

Victor was a communications major, known for his mastery of words and silver tongued charisma, it was rare to find him speechless. Katsuki Yuuri, leaning against the floor to ceiling windows, resting on his forearm as he perused the streets below, was enough to startle him. It was when he turned around, that Victor forgot how to speak. 

 

He was beautiful. Yuuri, that is. From what Victor knew, the man had to be in his late twenties but he wouldn’t have guessed from how Yuuri’s smooth golden skin pulled tight against sculpted cheekbones. Dark, unreadable eyes moved from the streets below to wash over Victor and it wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind him that he even realized he had been staring. 

 

“Mr. Giacometti?” Yuuri asked, his tone professional but that didn’t stop his accent from curling around his words. 

 

“Yes, er, no. I’m Nikiforov...Victor, Victor Nikiforov.”

 

Gliding across the floor, Yuuri folded himself elegantly into one of the stark white chairs sat directly across from each other. He cocked one perfect eyebrow at Victor, the rest of his face motionless and serene. 

 

“Christophe is sick, he didn’t want to cancel so I came. I hope you don’t mind, he needs this interview for his thesis paper and—”

 

Yuuri waved one hand, his lips teasing a smile as he silenced Victor. With another swift motion he gestured toward the empty chair in front of him and obediently Victor sank down into it, running a hand against the plush white fabric while the other set Christophe’s bag gently against the glass coffee table.

 

“Mr. Nikiforov then? Are you a business student as well?” 

 

Yuuri crossed his legs, the motion just as graceful as the rest of him, and sank back into the chair, leaned to the side just enough to look casual. Crisp gray suit against the white of the chair, he looked like a carefully posed model, every curve and line a work of art. Well, except for that horrible blue tie. Victor wondered if the businessman had selected his own tie, or if there was an intern or stylist somewhere that needed fired because really, it was dreadful. 

 

“No, Communications. Minor in public relations, Christophe and I are close friends, roommates actually.”

 

Yuuri hummed his acknowledgement and Victor swore those dark eyes were raking over him as he reached into his bag to retrieve the notepad with Christophe’s questions written neatly in familiar cursive. Clearing his throat, Victor straightened up, trying to make himself seem poised, professional, despite the fact that across from Yuuri he felt a bit disheveled, a child at the front of a classroom, giving his first speech.

 

“So, Mr. Katsuki,” Victor began, “You’ve had rapid and monumental success in the last few years, what would you attribute that to?”

 

“I learned the importance of discipline at a young age, I got my start in skating late compared to the others and it took extra work to catch up.”

 

“But you didn’t just catch up.”

 

“Someone did their research,” Yuuri replied with a chuckle. 

 

Victor blushed into his notepad, only his eyes peeking over the top to find Yuuri’s staring back at him. Taking pity on him, Yuuri continued.

 

“Every early morning practice, every late night, every bruise, it was all worth it. Not just for the gold, but for the lessons I learned. Discipline works well in running a business, as does a strong drive and a stronger work ethic. My father did an excellent job in maintaining our business, but I’ve never been one to settle.”

 

Nodding, Victor scribbled down the words as they fell from Yuuri’s mouth. When he caught Yuuri’s eye he paused. He looked amused, a single brow gently raised and that soft, surreptitious smile pulling at his lips once more. 

 

“You’re not going to record this?” He asked gently, like a parent prodding their child. 

 

“Ah, yes, if that’s alright with you?”

 

Stupid. How could Victor forget, Christophe was sure to ask why he hadn’t gotten all of the conversation on tape and knowing Chris, he would manage to squeeze it out of Victor that he was too busy dreaming about the stunning subject of the interview.

 

After Victor set up the tape recorder, clicking it on and setting it on the coffee table, he tried again to compose himself. He could tell Yuuri was still amused, probably thinking how ridiculous it was to be wasting his time with the interview. Chris should have rescheduled, sending Victor was a bad idea, he—

 

“The next question then?” Yuuri asked.

 

Right, Victor would redeem himself with the rest of the interview.

 

“You could have sat as a figurehead of your companies and hired others to do the legwork, instead you chose to pursue your MBA and dive into the businesses at the ground level. How did you decide on your current business system?”

 

“It makes sense, to know every detail of what’s going on, to be able to make the right decision. I spent my summers carrying luggage into rooms and helping in the kitchens, my parents had plenty of money and they were always at the desks, ready to greet a guest. You can’t let things happen, you have to be in control of them.”

 

“So you’re a control freak?” Victor laughed, caught in the easiness of the conversation he nearly forgot his place, clapping a hand over his own mouth. Thankfully Yuuri didn’t seem angered by the question, instead he chose to lean closer, enough that Victor didn’t have to inhale to smell the lighter tones of his cologne. 

 

“I like to think of it as I’m someone who knows what they want, and I’ll do anything to get it.”

 

Victor nearly gulped. It was a simple answer to a simple question, but something in the way Yuuri said it held more weight. It could be that Victor was on edge, it could be that he had been around Christophe too much and had started romanticizing things. 

 

Either way, it made Victor astutely aware of every motion Yuuri made as they flowed through the next few questions. Not completely relaxed, but becoming more comfortable, Victor leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his legs as Yuuri chuckled through an account of his early skating days.

 

“Mr. Katsuki, Are you—”

 

“Yuuri, please.”

 

“Yuuri,” Victor restarted, savoring the way the letters rolled off his tongue, letting his accent lilt and draw out the vowels. “Are you—”

 

“Yuuri!” 

 

The door swung open with enough force to be noticeable, causing both men to retreat back into their chairs. Yuuri readjusted his tie before turning to the door to address the intruder. 

 

Phichit Chulanont was a face Victor recognized, it was hard not to when the Thai man’s sunshine smile was a constant presence on every outlet of social media. That same smile was currently plastered to Phichit’s face as he addressed Yuuri. 

 

“Yuuri, I’m sorry to interrupt but the shoot for the new line got moved up, Mila needs you in makeup across town about ten minutes ago!”

 

Turning, Yuuri opened his mouth to make an apology but Victor was already slipping the notepad and recorder into his bag. 

 

“I apologize for this interruption, Phichit have someone pull the car around I’ll be there in just a minute.”

 

“A minute?” Phichit replied, his tone was teasing but his raised brow and shiteating grin hinted at something else. 

 

“A minute. Go.” 

 

Yuuri shooed his friend out the door and turned to Victor, who had his hand extended. 

 

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Katsuki. I’m sure Christophe will appreciate what we got done.”

 

Taking Victor’s outstretched hand, Yuuri pulled the man toward him and leaned in. There was nobody else in the room, Phichit had already disappeared down the hall to fetch the car but still Yuuri whispered softly, his voice firm and low in Victor’s ear.

 

“Thank  _ you _ .”

 

Two simple words, Victor wasn’t sure why Yuuri was thanking him and in the moment he couldn’t string enough thoughts together to care. It was over as soon as the words were off his lips, Yuuri dropped Victor’s hand and stepped toward the door, adjusting his tie.

 

“Sorry we couldn’t finish the interview today but—”

 

“You’ll have your people call my people?” Victor offered with a laugh, only now noticing that during their handshake Yuuri had slipped a business card into his hands. 

 

“Something like that,” Yuuri agreed with a grin as he made his way out the door, leaving Victor alone in the room, staring down at the soft gray card in his hands with the tiny white letters that perfectly spelled out Yuuri’s name.


	2. Accidental Pining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the response on last chapter, and for giving my little parody a chance even thought many of us aren’t fans of what I’m spoofing this off of. 
> 
> Thank you for everyone who let me bounce ideas off of them, and of course, the Yuuri to my Vitya, FromStarlighttoDust, for letting me scream plot at you and then screaming positive things back after beta-ing my story.

Victor didn’t call.

 

He didn’t text, or email, or send a smoke signal, or try to contact Katsuki Yuuri in any way after their interview concluded. When Victor got home he handed the messenger bag with all its contents—notepad, recorder, business card tucked into the front pocket of the notebook—over to Christophe and tried to forget about how bright Yuuri’s smile was when he walked out the door. 

 

It took less than an hour for Chris to burst through his bedroom door, no knocking, in true Christophe Giacometti fashion.

 

“What’s this?” His friend demanded, tossing the recorder onto the bed. Victor hit play and listened to a few questions from the interview.

 

“I like to think of it as I’m someone who knows what they want, and I’ll do anything to get it.” Yuuri’s lilting voice came through the device. 

 

“It’s the interview, I asked all the questions except we didn’t get to the very last page. He said we could call him, his card should be in there somewhere.”

 

Victor wasn’t sure what Chris was making such a fuss over, but when the Swiss man flung himself on the bed in a dramatic turmoil that rivaled even Victor’s own tantrums, he took the bait.

 

“Chris, what is it?”

 

“You  _ vex _ me, Mr, Nikiforov. You drop off my bag and don’t say a word about how you spent the morning flirting with the subject you were supposed to be interviewing.”

 

Victor was confused. He hadn’t been flirting, or he hadn’t meant to, he tapped the recording again just in case. Christophe was on one again, it was just a typical, everyday, interview with an incredibly attractive former Olympian turned multi millionaire.

 

Chris fished the business card out of the front pocket of the notepad and thrust it into Victor’s hand.

 

“Call him.”

 

“You’re supposed to call him, to set up a time to finish the interview.”

 

“ _ Call him _ ,” Chris implored. Victor sighed and took the card, if only to get Chris to leave him alone.

 

But Victor never called, never texted, never emailed and Chris let the topic go. 

 

—

 

“2 pairs of size 7s, 1 pair of men’s 13s, coming right up!” Victor cheerfully confirmed, turning from the skate rental desk to locate the needed boots. 

 

He had worked at the same ice rink since junior high, when he traded hours behind the counter for hours on the ice, and it was easy to keep through college. Sometimes after he closed down for the night he would make his way onto the ice for an hour or two, he couldn’t jump like he used to, he stopped skating in high school when everyone else had become more competitive, but it was a cathartic way to wind down before he went home. 

 

“Can I get a skate pass, please?” A voice called out from the front desk, Victor slung the last pair of skated over his shoulder, back turned as he made his way down from the ladder. 

 

“What size rentals?” He called back, carefully watching his steps as he found his way to the ground. The response came back, yelled over the noise of the rink,

 

“I don’t need any—” 

 

Safely on the ground, Victor turned toward the desk only to stop dead in his tracks. Yuuri stood on the other side of the desk, equally slack jawed for just a moment before clearing his throat and maintaining his mask. He looked different, not dressed in a suit with knife sharp creases, but instead a blue and black track jacket that unfortunately did not make him any less intimidating with his slicked hair and permanent smolder. 

 

“Mr. Katsuki.” Victor wheezed out, his breath finding him as he rushed the last few steps to the desk, sliding the skates to the group waiting to the right.

 

“Mr. Nikiforov,” Yuuri responded politely. There was a pause while both men stared at each other, processing their coincidental meeting. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Victor blurted, cursing himself internally for not thinking before he spoke. It shouldn’t matter to him why Yuuri was there, if he really cared what Yuuri was up to then he could have called.

 

Holding up a pair of black skates in response, Yuuri pointed to the practice rink. 

 

“I’m guest coaching a class this evening, I try to visit local rinks whenever I’m in the area.”

 

Of course he was. Because a man that beautiful would also be charitable and probably great with children too, and Victor needed to focus because he was staring again. 

 

“Oh, so just a coach pass then?”

 

Yuuri nodded. Neither said anything while Victor printed out the pass and slid it across the desk. Neither one acknowledged that Victor never called and neither one acknowledged that they both wished he had. Yuuri took the pass, thanked Victor, and retreated to the lockers to lace on his skates. 

 

The rest of the evening, Victor was very distracted. Victor couldn’t help it, the desk was situated across from the practice rink and he could see Yuuri in his blue and black jacket zip across the ice, demonstrating jumps and spins for the advanced class he had taken over. The kids loved him too, their cheers carried over the plexiglass walls and into the lobby, heard over the dull roar of kids coming from practice. Thankfully Yuuri couldn’t see he was being watched, or at least Victor really hoped he couldn’t, given that Victor had barely taken his eyes off the ice. 

 

It got to the point that Georgi, who had come in for the second part of the evening rush and usually spent that time making eyes at Anya, one of the ice dance youth coaches, finally said something. 

 

“Who has you so distracted?” Georgi asked toward the end of the shift sidling up beside Victor while he half-heartedly cleaned skate blades. He followed Victor’s gaze to where Yuuri had just peeled off his jacket, the shirt beneath it clinging to him in places that were obscene for a children’s class. “Oh,” he whispered. Georgi gave Victor a firm pat on the back, “Good luck with that, I pined for Anya for months before she let me clean her skates.”

 

Victor snorted at that. He wasn’t pining for Yuuri, was he? Sure he had found every excuse to watch the practice rink during his shift but who wouldn’t when there was a former Olympian on the ice, honestly  _ more _ people should have been doing the same thing. Victor finally peeled himself away, the last hour was always the busiest with all the practice returns, sharpening, clean up before they closed the rink down, plus after the advanced class was over Yuuri had disappeared. That made sense, he had no reason to come up to the desk again and Victor hadn’t called, the interview was over, Chris had what he needed and that was that.

 

“You staying and locking up?” Georgi called out as he punched out on the timeclock, he looked over to where Victor was pulling out his own skate bag. 

 

“Yea, I just want to take a couple laps and unwind.”

 

Georgi shrugged, leaving Victor alone on the bench in the locker rooms lacing up his skates.

 

He should have gotten an internship, or a part time job in an office—something that pertained to his degree—or wasn’t the same job he had since high school, but the ice time at the end of his shift wasn’t just something he could give up. Victor loved the ice, even if it wasn’t in the cards for him to pursue it forever, he was no Katsuki Yuuri after all. 

 

Making his way from the locker room to the practice rink, Victor paused. He wasn’t alone out here.

 

In the middle of the ice, under the dim security lights and single line of fluorescents that Victor had left on, stood a man in a black and blue jacket, lights bouncing off his slicked hair.

 

_ Yuuri _ .

 

Yuuri didn’t notice Victor, he seemed to be floating across the ice to a song that wasn’t playing, every stroke graceful, every extension of the arm enough to bring an audience to tears, and when he launched into the first jump, a triple axel, it seemed effortless. Victor could help but applaud when he finally came to a finish, his spin slowing until he struck a soft pose, eyes closed and his arm extended right toward Victor.

 

At the sound of the applause his eyes shot open and Yuuri looked horrified to see that he was being watched, he dropped his arms and sped to the side of the rink.

 

“How long were you watching?” He demanded. 

 

“I’m sorry...I always skate after work and I didn’t mean to watch but you looked so amazing out there, I just-I’m sorry.”

 

Victor fumbled through an apology, quickly gliding onto the ice under Yuuri’s impassive gaze. 

 

“You were incredible.”

 

“Thank you,” Yuuri mumbled. For a household name, he looked uncomfortable with the praise. 

 

“Skate with me?” Victor offered, the words rolling off his tongue before he had time to think about the offer. He certainly did a lot of that in Yuuri’s presence, even dressed down, sweat glistening on his brow, the man was still on another level of beautiful and intimidating.

 

Yuuri looked hesitant, finally giving a slight nod as he began to glide around the curve of the rink, Victor obediently falling into step. 

 

They skated for the better part of an hour, starting with slow glides, wordless little half spins to throw the other off their rhythm, and finally Yuuri launched into a jump under the relentless prodding of his skating companion.

 

“That was amazing!”

 

Blushing, the Olympian snorted in response, gesturing his arm to the empty ice beside them. “Your turn.”

 

Victor shook his head, “I don’t have anything as impressive as that, sorry, but you win. Another gold for you then!”

 

“Come on now, Mr. Nikiforov. First you don’t call to schedule the rest of our interview and now you deny me this too?”

 

With a small smile, Victor shook his head until Yuuri skated right in front of him, a blade tucked right between his own skates. As looming as the man’s presence always seemed he was several inches shorter than Victor, but that didn’t stop the man’s next words from sending a thrilling chill up Victor’s spine. 

 

“Jump for me, Victor.”

 

Yuuri’s tone made it clear it wasn’t a suggestion, but a firm command. Victor couldn’t help it, it was like the words consumed him with a drive to please and that dark look that flashed across Yuuri’s eyes haunted him as he turned and made a lap around the rink before launching into a double toe loop. The landing wasn’t too bad, a little shaky since he hadn’t properly warmed up, but Yuuri applauded him all the same. Victor shone with pride when he met the man at the gate of the rink.

 

“I should probably lock up and head home before Christophe starts calling.”

 

Yuuri nodded and Victor led them off the ice, slipping out of his own skates and leaving Yuuri for a moment to turn off the remaining lights until only the dim flicker of the security lights remained. Yuuri was still stunning, under the dim lights in his oversized jacket he looked approachable, like maybe, just maybe, he would be attainable for somebody like Victor with no real wealth or status. They walked together in silence and Yuuri lingered while Victor locked the doors behind them, trying them once to make sure they were shut. 

 

“Thanks for skating with me,” Victor offered awkwardly, his normally suave demeanor once again shattered by Yuuri’s piercing gaze. It was softer this time, Victor would toss pennies for the thoughts on the other man’s mind but his serenely beautiful face was as unreadable as ever, nodded along to Victor’s awkward goodbye. 

 

“Of course, thank you for the company. It was pleasant to run into you again.”

 

Just like that it felt like the two men were miles apart, the soft banter from the ice dissipating into the evening air. Yuuri waved his goodbye and began to walk away, towards a lone black car in the far back of the parking lot, Victor turned to his own vehicle but he couldn’t ignore the pull he felt in the back of his mind, the pit of his stomach, everywhere.

 

“I’m sorry I never called. Chris even said I should have, to finish the interview but you’re busy and I didn’t want to be an inconvenience.”

 

Yuuri stopped in his tracks and turned to face Victor, hair and eyes shining under the lot lamps. It took him all of two seconds to cross back to where Victor stood, three seconds to wrap himself in Victor’s outstretched arms, and barely another one to crash their lips together. 

 

Yuuri tasted like the rain after a summer in the desert, a refreshing breath that somehow stole Victor’s. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, and it would never have been enough, Victor could have stayed like that for the rest of his life and when Yuuri finally pulled away he couldn’t help but chase after, his lips autonomously searching for more while his head spun. 

 

“You should stay away from me, Victor. You were right not to call.”

 

It wasn’t the words Victor expected or wanted to hear, not ever and especially not while Yuuri’s hand was buried in his silver hair and while his lips ached hungrily. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri offered, disentangling himself from Victor. Was it just Victor’s imagination or did he look hesitant to pull away? 

 

Even in the jacket, Yuuri looked the part of the debonair businessman, adjusting himself and with a nod of goodbye, he retreated to the back of the lot.

 

“You’re wrong, you know!” Victor called out after him, Yuuri’s steps slowed but he continued on with no other acknowledgment of Victor’s words. 

 

Dejected, Victor kicked a stone off the sidewalk and flung himself down into the bucket seat of his car, slumping against the wheel. How dare he kiss Victor like they were in a blockbuster film and then drive off into the night as if he hadn’t made Victor’s heart soar and then come crashing down only minutes later.

 

_ I’ll show him,  _ Victor promised himself as he started up his car and fumbled with his phone to find a good song to take him home.  _ This will be the last time I pay any mind to Katsuki Yuuri. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Vitya, good luck with that. 
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read this story, I appreciate every kudos and comment, your responses are amazing!
> 
> Come find me on 


	3. A Kiss With a Fist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you always to my beta and other half, FromStarlighttoDust, who loves this part of the story because...well, you’ll see.
> 
> Please note that in this chapter there is a brief scene where Victor is being kissed without consent. Nothing graphic, I promise, but for those of you who may find this upsetting, the scene starts after “Said hands were currently dancing higher and higher on Victor’s thigh in rhythm with the pulsing music.” and ends at “He said Stop.” Thank you!

It was not the last time Victor thought about Katsuki Yuuri.

 

He managed to keep the man out of his head on the drive home, but Chris had already heard from Georgi that a certain decorated Olympian stopped by the rink. It was to be expected, Christophe’s relentless teasing was almost comforting in the wake of Yuuri’s rejection. Victor should have told Chris about the kiss, his friend would have understood and they could have ordered pizza, watched a rom-com, and cursed the men who made their lives miserable. And yet, Victor didn’t tell him, because even though Yuuri’s words were a clear indication that there was nothing between them, Victor wanted to savor the kiss just a little longer, to be teased like Yuuri was a real dating prospect for just a bit more. It was selfish, but Victor said nothing about the kiss, not even when Chris told him that he was finishing the interview.

 

“I thought we had everything?”

 

“So did I, but this last page had a question I actually need for the main thesis.”

 

Victor hummed in response, he was consumed with curiosity but he made a promise to himself, he would not think about Katsuki Yuuri.

 

“I’m going to give him a call, set up a time to finish the last part of the interview if you want to come see your boyfriend,” Chris tried again, but Victor only studied his phone. With a sigh the Swiss man retreated to his room, leaving his stubborn roommate on the couch. Victor let out his own sigh of relief, he knew that the difficult part would come after the interview. Knowing Chris, he would casually mention something about Victor wishing he could have been there and Yuuri would no doubt correct him right then and there that he was  _ not  _ interested. 

 

—

 

“He’s  _ completely  _ interested in you!”

 

Chris burst into Victor’s room uninvited and Victor made a mental note to ask the landlord about the possibility of a padlock on the bedroom door. Doing his best to maintain a cool uninterested facade, Victor only glanced up from his phone with a nonchalant, “Oh?”

 

“Oh?” Chris mimicked back, flopping onto the bed with enough force that it jolted Victor, throwing his phone from his hands. “I tell you that a stunningly attractive multimillionaire is interested in you and all you can say is, oh?”

 

“Chris, you’re Swiss and you’re a romantic, you’re probably just reading into things.”

 

With a responding snort, Christophe stretched out and threw a hand over his head in feigned dramatics.

 

“Victor you wound me.” Then, rolling over to face his roommate he continued, “That man specifically asked if you would be joining us today and he seemed  _ quite _ disappointed at my answer.”

 

“I highly doubt he was disappointed that he was interviewed by only one college student instead of two.” Victor rolled his eyes and shifted away from his roommate, hoping Chris would take the hint and leave the topic alone. 

 

“I listened to that recording, Victor. Today Mr. Katsuki was strictly business, no first names, no banter.”

 

“He’s a busy man, Chris. He probably just wanted to get things finished because he had places to be.”

 

“He’s a busy man, Victor. He probably had places to be when you interviewed him as well.”

 

Victor rolled over and stared at Chris’ triumphant, shiteating grin. It didn’t look like the topic was going to be dropped anytime soon, so with a deep breathe, he made a confession.

 

“Yuuri and I kissed.”

 

Victor wished he had a camera ready for the responding look of shock on Christophe’s face. 

 

“And you’re just now telling me?”

 

“Yuuri and I kissed, and then immediately after he told me that this couldn’t happen. That I should stay away and I shouldn’t call.” Victor hadn’t realized how much the information had been weighing on him until it was all out on the table, he took a deep breathe at the admission and tried to focus anywhere but on his roommate. His roommate who grew uncharacteristically quiet. 

 

“Get up, get dressed, we’re going out.”

 

Christophe moved off the bed, leaving Victor to fumble with the sheets, pulling himself upright and sputtering.

 

“Did you hear me?”

 

“Yes, Victor,” Chris sighed. “I heard you very clearly and that’s why we’re going out. You let me tease you for days when you were suffering from a broken heart!”

 

“I wouldn’t call it a broken hea—”

 

Chris raised his hand in protest, “ _ Non! _ Get dressed, I’m going to buy you a few strong drinks and we are going to find someone better than a stuck up businessman for you to suck face with.”

 

Victor couldn’t help but smile. Chris had been his best friend for years and he knew how to cheer him up, he had expected a little more teasing but Chris’ mission sounded fun and was a welcome surprise.

 

“We leave at dusk!” Chris called out, galloping across the apartment to begin his own primping routine while Victor chuckled on the bed. He would go out, have a fantastic evening with friends, and maybe find someone to take his mind off of a Katsuki Yuuri. What could go wrong?

 

—

 

Victor was several shots of tequila in by the time the rest of their friends made it to the bar. Christophe had chosen the hipster bar on Main as the launch point for the “Fuck Katsuki Yuuri Night,” which Victor pointed out could have the opposite meaning of what they were actually doing that night. 

 

“Look Victor, he might be an ass but he’s still hot with a lot of money and even if he wants to be Mr. Elusive, if you got the chance I would still suggest you fuck him.”

 

Christophe then put an end to the conversation by downing another tequila shot and offering to suck the lime out of the bartender’s mouth. Things only got hazier thereafter, in the excitement of the afternoon Victor really hadn’t eaten much and the little dishes of chips and olives weren’t doing much to stop the liquor from going straight to his head.

 

He may have lost a few of his bearings, but he still felt great. A little warm and if he was being honest his fingers were a little tinglier than they should have been, but besides that Victor was on top of the world, on top of the world and surrounded by friends, one of which kept dancing his hand on Victor’s thigh.

 

Victor squinted at the offending friend to find it was James Jack, or Jay Johnson, or whatever his name was. JJ had somehow weaseled his way into their group shortly after spring semester started, he was a bit obnoxious but a decent guy otherwise. He was straight, with an absolute saint of a girlfriend, but he  _ did _ have the habit of getting a little handsy when he started to drink. Said hands were currently dancing higher and higher on Victor’s thigh in rhythm with the pulsing music. 

 

Setting a hand on top of JJ’s to stop them from climbing any higher, Victor found himself being whisked off of his barstool and onto the dance floor. He let JJ wrap his arms around his waist, gyrating their hips together to the music while his head buzzed, he knew he shouldn’t encourage JJ, should peel himself away and find his way back to the bar, but when he tried the room seemed to spin and it was much easier to stay upright when he used JJ’s solid body as a brace. Victor ignored the traveling hands that turned him around so his breath was hot on JJ’s neck and the man stared down at him with hooded eyes.

 

Victor wasn’t sure if it was the tequila shots, the suggestive gyrations, or a combination of the two but the next thing he knew his back was pressed against the wall of the club and JJ was holding him there, lips moving fast across his neck, making pit stops on his lips. Even in his foggy state of mind, Victor knew it was wrong and began to paw and push at JJ’s chest but in his drunken state, his limbs didn’t quite cooperate and his defense was weak.

 

“Stop!” Victor pleaded softly, but under the roar of the music he knew he couldn’t be heard as he repeated the word with as much strength as he could muster. He felt sick to his stomach, the room spinning around him, and he could feel hot tears welling just below the surface as he tried to fight back.

 

It wasn’t clear what happened next, one minute Victor felt hands traveling further south and then the pressure of JJ’s body leaning against him was gone and somebody was yelling.

 

“He said stop.”

 

Victor recognized that voice. With the stability of JJ gone, he fell to the floor on his knees, head in his hands as if it would help the room to stop spinning. He tried to look up, but his head kept bobbing back and his eyes wouldn’t focus. He glimpsed JJ, holding his jaw, glaring toward Victor. No, not at Victor, at…

 

“Yuuri!” Victor shouted. The businessman was standing, one hand still clenched in a fist and even in his current state, Victor could piece together what happened.

 

“Victor, are you okay?” Yuuri knelt beside him, pulling Victor onto his feet and guiding him through the throngs of people until they were outside in the fresh night air.

 

The air hit Victor’s lungs like the first drop of rain in a drought, sobering him up enough to make sense of the situation. Leaning against the brick wall, Victor heaved in the cool air while Yuuri watched him, wordlessly studying him as he gasped and sputtered.

 

“You...you punched JJ,” Victor managed, Yuuri merely nodded in response, clenching and unclenching his fist.

 

“He wouldn’t leave you alone, I heard you telling him to stop.”

 

“You  _ punched _ him though.”

 

Yuuri sighed. “Yes, well, I’ve had a few drinks myself.”

 

“What are you doing here? This isn’t where I would picture the CEO of Katsuki Hospitality hanging out.”

 

That earned a little smirk from Yuuri, and while Victor would blame it on the alcohol he couldn’t deny that it made his heart skip a beat. 

 

“I was in the area, I had an interview with a certain college student earlier and happened to meet some local friends for dinner. This was their suggestion.” Yuuri paused, watching Victor who was still leaning against the wall waiting for his head to calm down. “I’m glad they brought me here though...where were your friends?”

 

“That was one of my friends,” Victor admitted sheepishly, looking up into those dark eyes, so inviting and safe and—

 

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

 

And Victor did.

 

Thankfully he missed Yuuri’s shoes and slacks, which probably each cost more money than Victor saw in a paycheck, and most of the vomit ended up in the alley. Yuuri was kind enough to smooth back Victor’s bangs, covering up his shoulders with his own sportcoat when he had finished, and leading him back inside.

 

Throwing up made Victor feel a little better, and the water Yuuri placed in his hands, accompanied by a firm order to drink, helped to clear his head. 

 

“Stay here okay, don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

 

Victor nodded along, Yuuri’s firm instruction was almost soothing and Victor barely noticed that he was gone. He vaguely saw Yuuri talking to a group of people, one who he recognized as Phichit and another woman with delicate dark skin and brunette hair. Victor felt a brief little pang at that, perhaps Yuuri had instructed him to stay away because that was his girlfriend.

 

Yuuri was back before Victor could ponder things further, helping him off the barstool, making their way toward the front door until Victor clung to Yuuri’s sleeve.

 

“Wait! Chris! He will worry if I’m gone!”

 

“Here, let me see your phone.”

 

Victor obediently unlocked it and set the mobile in Yuuri’s hand. He waited patiently until Yuuri handed the phone back, tugging Victor out the door and into a car parked just outside. 

 

“I thought you said you were drinking,” Victor remarked softly, hesitating when Yuuri opened the car door for him. 

 

Yuuri nodded in response. “I’m not driving, my driver came with me this evening.”

 

That was good enough for Victor, sliding into the backseat with Yuuri following close behind. The driver was a kid, he couldn’t have been more than twenty, with blonde hair accented with a shocking streak of red.

 

“Where to Mr. Katsuki?” He asked brightly.

 

“Home please, Minami.” Yuuri replied, looking down at his phone for a moment and missing the look of surprise on Victor’s face.

 

Victor opened his mouth, he should protest, should say something, but then again he wasn’t sure he could produce directions from where they were currently and so he sat quietly in the backseat. Yuuri glanced up, pocketing his phone and placing one hand on Victor’s knee. The touch was delicate, almost as if it was asking permission, and Victor couldn’t ignore the heat that spread quickly from that soft gesture.

 

“Victor, is that okay?”

 

He nodded in response, eyes focused on the hand that covered his knee. Victor was very much okay, Victor was going home with Katsuki Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the positive response! I know there is a suspicious lack of smut for what should probably be a smutty fic. But I do have my reasons.
> 
> Come find me on 


	4. Something About Elevators

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Victor gets Katsuki Yuuri into bed.

Katsuki Yuuri is everywhere.

 

His breath trails hot on Victor’s neck while his hands pin him back against the cool metallic wall of the elevator. It was a long enough drive that Victor’s head is no longer swimming from the alcohol, but instead from Yuuri. Their touches are electric, sending chills down Victor’s spine with every delicate stroke, and Yuuri’s kisses are divine in a way that Victor can barely comprehend. 

 

Victor can feel how raw his lips are, probably from the way Yuuri sucked and bit at them when they first got into the elevator. It was animalistic how they had gotten here, it was their fourth ride from the bottom floor to the top and each time Yuuri fumbled backwards to hit the next floor Victor sent up a silent prayer that nobody would interrupt. It had to be almost two in the morning, another hour until the bars closed and people began to make their way home, Victor could have spent that entire hour locked in the elevator with Yuuri, bodies pressed together while hands and lips wandered.

 

Yuuri tangled his hands in the soft silver locks of Victor’s hair and gave a gentle tug, eliciting a soft moan from Victor as he nipped and kissed at the exposed alabaster of skin. Victor had never had such a sensational make out experience and he was only mildly self conscious of the fact that Yuuri seemed to know what he was doing. Dear  _ god  _ did he know what he was doing.

 

Soft little moans escaped Victor’s open lips and he wasn’t sure at what point he started grinding shamelessly against Yuuri’s leg, nestled between his own. In one swift motion, Yuuri scooped him up, wrapping Victor’s legs around his waist as he pinned him up against the wall, unraveling him with kisses. When they did pull back, soft hooded blues met those pools of dark abyss and Victor brought his hands up to fumble with the buttons of Yuuri’s shirt and—

 

_ Ding _

 

It hadn’t been long enough for them to reach the top floor again, a fact only confirmed when Yuuri gently but swiftly set Victor down and spun to the side, adjusting his wrecked hair and crinkled shirt, so when the door opened and a young man stepped into the elevator with them, Yuuri was the very picture of calm, cool, and collected. Victor tried to follow suit, but he could have sworn that the man noticed his kiss swollen lips and disheveled hair.

 

“What is it about elevators,” Yuuri hissed under his breath. 

 

Victor snuck a look over to him, but the businessman’s eyes were focused straight ahead as if nothing was out of the ordinary. When the elevator finally arrived at the top floor, they nodded to the man in the elevator and Yuuri led Victor out by the hand into a room that could barely be classified as a hallway considering there were only two doors there.

 

Yuuri unlocked the one directly in front of them and Victor stepped into the penthouse apartment which could only be described as immaculate, the soft gray wood floors and sparkling granite countertops in the open kitchen. Stepping into Yuuri’s apartment was like walking into a photo in a magazine and Victor tried to refrain from thinking about how much it probably cost just to rent, let alone furnish. 

 

“Wow,” he breathed, receiving a soft chuckle from Yuuri as he peeled off his tie and shoes.

 

“Yuuko designed the place, I’ll pass your compliments along to her.”

 

“Is Yuuko your girlfriend?” Victor asked, remembering the girl from the bar but once again wishing he thought before he spoke. It must have been Yuuri’s presence that lowered his IQ whenever he tried to speak. 

 

“Victor, I just completely ravished you in the elevator and you are asking if I have a  _ girlfriend? _ ”

 

Victor smiled sheepishly at that while Yuuri rummaged around the kitchen, pulling out a small wrapped tray of fruit, and some cold meats and cheeses. He set everything on the counter along with two glasses of water and small plates. 

 

“Drink,” he instructed. 

 

Obediently, Victor sipped at the water while Yuuri nibbled at some of the food. When the water was gone, he received his next direction.

 

“Eat something.”

 

“I’m not hungry,” Victor insisted, met with a raised brow and a pointed look from the man across the counter.

 

“Victor, what little you had in your stomach is now in the back alley of the bar. Please eat something, you’ll feel better.”

 

Victor conceded, plucking a grape off the tray and popping it in his mouth. The combination of tang and sweet was refreshing and ignited a hunger that the lingering effects of alcohol had helped to suppress. He began to hungrily sample everything off of the trays, glancing over at Yuuri to make sure he wasn’t making himself out to be a glutton. Yuuri merely smiled in encouragement, sneaking some tidbits off the plate for himself as well. Aside from small chit chat, both focused on the food, and Yuuri refilled Victor’s water until he began to slow down. 

 

“Had enough?” He asked, covering the trays as Victor idled. Rubbing his eyes, Victor nodded sleepily, his belly was full and he felt much better after plenty of water, the late hour was beginning to catch up to him.

 

After he cleaned off the countertop, Yuuri offered his hand to Victor, leading him out of the kitchen and into the hall. Victor felt his stomach flutter with glee, he was about to go to bed with Katsuki Yuuri and if the events from the elevator were any indication, he was in for quite a night. He tried to relax himself, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to get worked up before they had even made it to the bedroom. 

 

Yuuri swung open a door at the end of the hall, gesturing Victor inside.

 

“I’ll bring you a change of clothes,” he whispered, retreating down the hall.

 

Victor surveyed the room, the stark white bedsheets and crisp curtains. Everything was spotless and tastefully arranged, just like the rest of the apartment he had seen so far, it was luxurious and Victor really shouldn’t be surprised given Yuuri’s wealth and status. It didn’t do anything to soothe his nerves and his hands jittered as he peeled off his shirt, electing to leave his pants on, for now.

 

Victor carefully arranged himself on the bed, trying out a variety of poses that would achieve the perfect level of being alluring without coming off that he was trying too hard. He could hear Yuuri padding back down the hallway and finally rolled over on his stomach, chest resting on a pillow while his feet swung playfully in the air.

 

“What are you doing?” 

 

It wasn’t the response Victor expected and his attempt at a seductive smile faltered.

 

“I-I thought we, you were…” Victor sat back on his heels, staring down at himself in shame. He should have known Yuuri wasn’t interested in him, he was just being polite and got carried away in the elevator because they were both drunk. How did that look? Him trying to get Yuuri into bed even though they had both been drinking? He felt sober now but still, what did Yuuri think of him?

 

The more he thought about it, the worse he felt and tears began to well up in his eyes again the more he let his mind wander. Victor was completely in his own head, so much so that he failed to notice Yuuri sinking into the bed beside him.

 

“ _ Victor.” _

 

Yuuri’s voice snapped Victor back to reality and he blinked up at him a few times before a raspy apology tumbled from his lips. How long had Yuuri been saying his name?

 

“I’m so sorry, I thought that...I should have known, I mean the girl at the bar and then what you told me at the rink and I shouldn’t have believed Christophe when he said he thought you were interested in me. You probably think I’m ridiculous.”

 

Victor barely took a breath, words spewing out faster than he could think, while Yuuri sat patiently beside him, a soothing hand running along Victor’s shoulders.

 

“Victor, please stop.” 

 

He did, but more because he had run out of breath and had started heaving in air. Yuuri gave him a moment, still softly rubbing his back, his face contorted in thought before he spoke.

 

“Victor, I  _ am _ interested in you, but we aren’t going to sleep together, my room is down the hall. I meant what I said before...you should really stay away from me. Tonight was an unfortunate incident and I’m glad I was there to help but I—I’m not what you’re looking for.”

 

Parts of Victor were singing out, Katsuki Yuuri was  _ interested _ in him and with this bit of information he was delighted. The other half of Victor tried to bring reason into the situation, focusing on the fact that Yuuri was still keen on pushing him away, even putting him in the guest room. Which, in all fairness, was also quite gentlemanly of him, given the circumstances, but Victor certainly wouldn’t have minded sharing the bed even if there was nothing else on the table.

 

“Why?” He asked finally, clear blue eyes blinking back tears as he looked to Yuuri.

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why do you want me to stay away? Is it because I’m not rich or from a well known family or—”

 

“That’s not it.” Yuuri interrupted, furrowing his brows. 

 

“Then why? Why would you kiss me? Why would you tell me to stay away and then bring me closer? You could have told Christophe and he would have taken me home, I’m not a charity case.”

 

“I know that, Victor. That has nothing to do with it, I just don’t know if we are looking for the same thing, I don’t want to let you down.”

 

Victor said nothing, looking down at his hands which had become clenched and tangled in the bedsheets. They sat like that in silence for several stretched out minutes, before Victor felt Yuuri’s hand at his back again. Slowly those delicate fingers crept under his chin, bringing him up for a featherlight kiss.

 

Languidly Yuuri pressed his lips to Victor’s, keeping the kisses simple, no parted lips or diving tongues like in the elevator just hours ago. It was tender, loving like it was one of many, comfortable and familiar.

 

“I promise, I’ll explain everything tomorrow. For tonight just...stay close to me.”

 

Victor nodded. After a kiss like that, he would have done anything that Yuuri asked if it might mean that he would receive another. Yuuri pressed the pajamas he brought into Victor’s hands and rested his lips against the man’s forehead, pushing aside his silver bangs.

 

“Get ready, I’ll stay in here with you tonight but no funny business.”

 

With a nod, Victor padded away to the attached bathroom, emerging minutes later in a soft shirt that stretched tightly across his shoulders and a pair of loose shorts. Yuuri laid under the covers, bedspread pulled away on the other side, back against the pillows while he tapped at his phone.  

 

When the light of the bathroom shone on him, he set the device on the nightstand and smiled at Victor, so soft and pure.

 

“You’re wearing glasses.”

 

“You’re observant,” Yuuri chuckled as Victor joined him under the covers only slightly disappointed to find that Yuuri was fully clothed in pajamas. “I have horrible eyesight, but contacts were easier to skate in and when I made the switch to modeling, glasses weren’t always in fashion.”

 

“I like them.” Victor decided, snuggling into the pillows. It was going to be hard going back to his own bed tomorrow night, the pillows and blankets, even the mattress, seemed to curl around him like they were designed specifically for one Victor Nikiforov. 

 

Yuuri hummed, switching off the lamp and sidling up beside Victor, pulling him close to his chest and resting his lips on the top of his head. As Victor succumbed to the invitations of sleep, he could feel Yuuri whispering softly against his silver locks as if he thought Victor wouldn’t hear.

 

“Stay close to me,” he murmured, “even if it’s just for tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves, sorry it’s been a few weeks since the last update! I’ve been busy with some exciting things at work and I had some projects for school that took priority! That being said, the fic has already been written so I’ll be updating pretty consistently for the next few chapters, though I probably won’t be doing it daily because I have some other projects in the works that I can’t wait to share!
> 
> For those of you still with me, thank you so much for your patience. Your kindness and comments mean so much to me!
> 
> Come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://thewaywardsong.tumblr.com/)


	5. The Not-a-Date

Victor was dropped off at his apartment around noon the next day. 

 

He lazed about in bed with Yuuri for most of the morning, sharing soft kisses here and there until they were fully awake. Victor made it out to the kitchen after a hot shower, he was met with a hot cup of coffee and a full breakfast waiting for him. 

 

“Is this a typical morning for young enigma Katsuki Yuuri?” Victor asked playfully, sliding onto the barstool and accepting the coffee.

 

“Usually the company isn’t as great, but Yuuko keeps me well fed if that’s what you’re asking. You can thank her for the coffee too.”

 

Yuuri sat down with a plate of his own next to Victor, humming with pleasure as he bit into a crisp strip of bacon. 

 

The morning was comfortable, even in the wake of the night before. Victor still felt a bit of pressure in his head, and his body definitely felt the effects of his wild night, but the water and food that Yuuri insisted on had certainly helped and the hangover was manageable.

 

Walking into he and Chris’ modest two bedroom apartment after experiencing the luxury and grandeur of Yuuri’s penthouse, Victor felt like Cinderella coming home after the ball. The jacket Yuuri had loaned him smelled of the same expensive cologne that he had gone to sleep next to and reminded him that the chain of events really did happen. 

 

“Well, well, well, how nice of you to come home,” Chris purred from the kitchen. Of course his roommate would be here to witness his walk of shame, although considering nothing had actually happened between he and Yuuri it couldn’t  _ really _ be counted as such. 

 

“How was your night, Chris?”

 

“I think you should tell me about yours first.” 

 

Chris gave a playful wink to Victor before tending to the pan in front of him. He was making pancakes, which wouldn’t seem so out of the ordinary if Victor didn’t know that Chris was currently on some new trendy diet. A trendy diet that most certainly didn’t include pancakes. 

 

“Who are you making pancakes for, Chris?” Victor asked, leaning over the bar to peer suspiciously at the golden flapjack as his friend delivered it onto a plate. 

 

Before Chris could speak, Victor got his answer. Phichit Chulanont emerged from Christophe’s room outfitted in an oversized university shirt that was most definitely his roommate's and a pair of shorts that also looked familiar. Victor stared at the Thai man the entire way from the bedroom until he came and perched on the stool beside Victor, accompanied with a chirp of good morning, like he woke up and had pancakes at their breakfast bar every morning.

 

“As requested.” Chris set the stack of pancakes on the bar with a flourish before producing syrup and butter on a small plate.

 

Victor still said nothing, merely raising a single brow at Chris. Typically his roommate's sexual exploits didn’t make it to the breakfast table, not to say Chris was a playboy, but at the same time he certainly hadn’t been the relationship type in the past. 

 

“So, Victor, has was your night with Yuuri?”

 

Phichit looked over expectantly as he popped a slice of pancake in his mouth, his mischievous grin never leaving even while he chewed. 

 

“It was very kind of him to take me home.” Victor shot both men a pointed look. Chris merely shrugged, a knowing smirk on his face as he put together his own breakfast plate. He raised it toward Victor, an offer for him to join in the meal but Victor brushed it away with his hand. “No thank you, I already ate.”

 

Victor had not been expecting Phichit to nearly snort his orange juice at this tidbit of news. 

 

He waited while Phichit wiped off some of the juice dribbles from his chin. Phichit slid the napkin down his face and looked at Victor, eyes wide. 

 

“You had breakfast with Yuuri?”

 

“Well yes, that’s actually why I’m back so late, once we woke up he insisted on eating and it smelled so good and I—”

 

Neither Phichit or Chris were keen on letting Victor finish before the questions came tumbling out.

 

“Did you sleep with him?”

 

“How was it?”

 

“No.” Victor replied, leaning back from the bar as Phichit invaded his personal space. “Nothing happened. We got home, we ate a bit, and we went to bed.”

 

The responding pout rivaled even Chris’ and Victor briefly thought to himself that while he hadn’t expected that particular pairing, they seemed to be two of a kind.

 

“Still on the ‘stay away’ thing is he?” Chris mused, his pancakes forgotten in favor of Victor’s tragic love life. Victor nodded in response, chewing on his lip as he answered.

 

“Yes, well, I think so. He’s supposed to explain everything tonight so I guess I’ll find out then.”

 

“You’re going on a date?” Phichit nearly interrupted, plopping his chin into his hands as he gazed up like a child at bedtime. 

 

“He didn’t say it was a—”

 

“Victor, is he  _ explaining things _ over dinner by chance?” Chris interrupted, giving Phichit a knowing look which he returned in kind. Victor made a mental note that they were going to be one of  _ those _ couples and sighed in response.

 

“Yes, we are getting dinner but that doesn’t mean it’s a date.”

 

“It’s totally a date,” Phichit grinned into his mug.

 

—

 

It was definitely a date. 

 

Victor second guessed himself an hour before Yuuri was due to pick him up, completely reevaluating his outfit and changing into a different shirt, the light blue one that Chris insisted made his eyes really pop. In the end he was thankful for this choice, especially when he slid into Yuuri’s car to find the man dressed impeccably as always. Of course the compliment he was immediately paid made him very thankful for his outfit reconsideration. 

 

“You look...wow.” Yuuri breathed, his eyes perusing Victor under the dim streetlights filtering through the tinted windows. The same dim lights hid the blush that spread from Victor’s cheeks to the tip of his ears.

 

That wasn’t the point in which Victor decided it was a date, nor was it when they pulled up to a restaurant with valet service and a menu that easily cost at least one of his paychecks. No, it was easy for Victor to shrug that off and pretend he always went to five star eateries where the waiters wore actual tuxedos and the sculptures were made of real marble. It was when he found his hands clasped tightly in Yuuri’s as he led them across the dining area into a private room that he had an inkling that this was more than a casual dinner to discuss his potential boyfriend’s commitment issues or whatever luggage they were about to unpack.

 

“Champagne?” The waiter offered, and Victor could only nod as he finally let himself take in his surroundings, especially the debonair businessman seated across from him.

 

“Thank you, Leo,” Yuuri unfolded his napkin into his lap as the waiter poured the glasses and Victor noticed with only a hint of jealousy that the waiter was not wearing a name tag.

 

“I come here for business dinners,” Yuuri explained, reading Victor’s face and answering the question that lie there before he could ask. It was hard not to blush again, caught in a state of jealousy when he had no real claim to Yuuri past a few stolen moments at an ice rink and one night together. 

 

“I hope this is alright,” he continued, pausing for a sip of champagne which left him with a pleasing smile. “I thought somewhere private would do well for this conversation but I thought either of our apartments might make it awkward if you decide to leave.”

 

“Why would I leave?” Victor asked quickly, nipping his lip at his haste. 

 

Yuuri smiled in return, “Let’s order before we get into all that.”

 

They ordered, shared a glass of champagne, and Victor charmed Yuuri with a story of one of his college exploits before the topic was brought up again, food finally served and the waiter took his leave. Yuuri cleared his throat and Victor felt very small, like a child waiting for a scolding.

 

“Victor, I know I’ve been... _ confusing _ toward you but I do want to shed some light on things. I would appreciate it if I could count on your secrecy should things not work out between us.”

 

Victor nodded, focusing more on the fact that Yuuri had said there was something between them more than the weight of the situation. He was so concerned with this that he almost failed to notice when Yuuri pulled out a small stack of papers, neatly folded of course, from his pocket. Victor did, however, notice the slight tremble in Yuuri’s fingers as he slowly unfolded the paper and slid it across the table.

 

“How much do you know about BDSM?” Yuuri asked, his voice soft and casual, as though he was asking about the weather. 

 

Victor took the paper and let his eyes brush over the first paragraph before locking onto Yuuri, “I’ve been handcuffed.”

 

It hardly seemed like the time or place to be divulging into sexual preferences. Victor’s gaze flitted about the luxury of the private room, the champagne, their dinner so elegantly arranged on perfect white china. Then he read over the paper in front of him. 

 

_ Non Disclosure Agreement _

 

_   Victor Nikiforov     _ _ , hereafter referred to as “The Submissive” or “Sub” agrees that no personal information associated with  _ _      Katsuki Yuuri     _ _ , hereafter referred to as “The Dominant” or “Dom,” and what is hereafter referred to as “The Arrangement” shall be disclosed, whether for personal or public use.  The Submissive and The Dominant both agree to honor listed hard limits and heed by safe words which are listed below: _

 

_ “ _ **_Gold_ ** _ ”—Both The Dominant and The Submissive agree to continue scene with no changes. _

 

_ “ _ **_Silver_ ** _ ”—Either The Dominant or The Submissive agree to pause scene and address concerns before continuing. Restraints may be readjusted for comfort, accessories may be removed, and scene may be readdressed until both parties are comfortable with continuing. _

 

_ “ _ **_Bronze_ ** _ ”—Either The Dominant or The Submissive decides to completely stop the scene. At this time all restraints and accessories will be removed, scene will promptly stop, and aftercare will be administered as needed. _

 

Victor looked up from the page again to find Yuuri watching him carefully, nervously, actually from the looks of how he was chewing at his bottom lip. Victor wasn’t sure what he had expected but it certainly wasn’t to be handed what was almost certainly a BDSM contract. He flitted down the page and skimmed the following where the list of Yuuri’s hard limits were printed in the same professional typeface as the rest. Victor didn’t read every one but he saw enough.  _ Gunplay? Blood?  _ What had he gotten himself into?

 

“I know this probably isn’t what you’re looking for…” Yuuri’s voice wavered slightly as he peered over the table and for once Victor saw the facade of his calm, cool, collected behavior. This Yuuri may have dressed the part of the enigmatic CEO, but he looked riddled with nerves as he addressed Victor.

 

“Have you had this kind of rela—” Victor paused, glancing again at the contract and its legal terminology, “ _ Arrangement _ before?”

 

“Yes,” Yuuri admitted. “I like to exercise discipline in all areas of my life, I told you that in our interview. This happens to be one of those areas.”

 

“Why?” 

 

Victor was careful about his tone. Part of him wanted to run screaming from the room, he may have a few kinks of his own but the fact that a Yuuri handed him a contract that even considered knives and needles in the bedroom was alarming. At the same time, he could tell Yuuri was putting himself out there and he thought back to the night before, how Yuuri had whispered into his hair right as he drifted off to sleep. 

 

Victor remembered the soft waiver in his voice, like he was scared when he woke up that Victor would be gone. It raised some questions that he would have to ask later, if there even was a later, but for now he kept his tone calm and waited for Yuuri’s explanation.

 

“I had horrible anxiety as a kid, but the discipline I exerted over myself with skating helped that. It was a part of the reason I was able to catch up, and then surpass, the other kids. I needed it and once I retired I found that my nerves caught up with me, not having that control anymore.

 

I threw myself into my businesses, I grew Katsuki Hospitality, I launched my clothing line and it helped. I met a man in a club one evening who introduced me to BDSM, I started out as his sub and it helped but I liked being the one in charge more. I— _ trained  _ under him for a bit and I found my first sub a few years ago.”

 

“So you have this instead of a relationship? You just have these  _ arrangements _ ?” 

 

Once again Victor couldn’t help but fixated on that word. Yuuri didn’t want a relationship with him. He had been  _ trained _ to be dominant, had countless arrangements like that, maybe he even had more than one at a time. It was past Victor’s realm of understanding. 

 

“It’s not so clinical,” Yuuri promised with a sigh, balling his napkin up in his fist. “It’s more of a different style of relationship.”

 

Victor was silent, to Yuuri’s dismay, worry tangible on his face. 

 

“You don’t have to decide anything, not right now, we can go on a few more dates, get to know each other. This is all sudden, I know, I’m just...I’ve never been so swept away like I was when you walked into my office. I wanted to do this the right way and I haven’t been with anyone who wasn’t already familiar and…”

 

Yuuri let himself trail off at the lack of response from Victor. The silence was thick, their dinner growing cold, champagne turning flat. 

 

“I need to think about this.”

 

It felt like the pin dropping in a silent room, those words tumbling out. Plates were cleared, glasses too, and Victor wondered if this was the worst date in the history of dates. It was a far cry from anything he had been expecting and he could tell Yuuri thought so too from the stiff way he rose from his chair, sliding into his jacket like it was made of needles.

 

They walked to the car together, Victor walking a step ahead, he could feel Yuuri’s eyes boring into him and slid into the car to escape. At least this way Yuuri’s eyes were on the road ahead of them, no longer looking at him filled with broken hope. 

 

The ride to Victor’s apartment was silent and when they pulled up, Victor noticed that there were still two cars parked in front of their unit.

 

“Is that...Phichit’s car?” Yuuri asked, giving Victor a quizzical look. Internally Victor cursed, Chris probably assumed he wouldn’t be home tonight and he wasn’t sure what he was about to walk into.

 

“Yea, he and Chris met at the bar last night.”

 

“Oh, he mentioned he met someone so he wouldn’t be around today. I didn’t realize—”

 

Victor looked over, waiting for the rest of a sentence that was never finished. They sat in silence for a minute before he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door. The car was still idling, Yuuri hadn’t bothered to park, and that was sign enough for Victor.

 

With a sigh, he lifted himself off the seat, only for Yuuri to catch his hand. 

 

“Victor wait, I—”

 

Victor looked back expectantly. He hoped Yuuri would say that they would just tear up the contract and then they could date like normal people. They could be like Chris and Phichit, who most likely spent the day breaking in every piece of furniture in Chris’ bedroom at the very least. They could have a regular date where they didn’t talk about contracts and negotiate kinks. Unfortunately Yuuri made it clear what he was looking for and his response did nothing to change Victor’s mind.

 

“Please...just think about it. I’ll call you.”

 

Victor nodded. He pulled his hand away and shut the door, careful not to look back while he trudged up the steps to the front door. As he tucked himself inside, he didn’t miss Yuuri’s face, illuminated by the cabin light of his car, still watching him. Victor wanted to smile, wanted to invite him in, but instead he closed the door and watched through the peephole as the car drove away. 

 

Yuuri called the very next day, but Victor never answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention this was not a fluffy fic?
> 
> Thank you for all your comments and kudos!
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](Https://TheWaywardSong.tumblr.com/)


	6. Katsuki Yuuri Breaks the Internet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two chapters to go, I couldn’t let you all suffer for too long!

Yuuri called every day for the next week.

 

Every time his name popped up on the screen, Victor cradled the device in his hands and watch until it finished ringing. Yuuri left voicemails that Victor never listened to, deleting them as soon as the notification came through. He didn’t want to be a rich man’s plaything, that was never something he envisioned for himself and what else was he supposed to think, barely meeting somebody and having all of  _ that _ thrust upon him. 

 

Chris had been kind enough to not ask questions when Victor returned home only a few hours after his date. He and Phichit were thankfully clothed, tangled on the couch while a movie played in the background. They invited Victor to join them, but he shut himself in his room with the contract for the remainder of the night.

 

Victor must have read the contract a hundred times. He could recite the non disclosure statement and he knew Yuuri’s list of limits like they were engraved on his forehead. The more he read, the more questions he had, and there were times when his thumb hovered over Yuuri’s name in his phone, ready to press call. 

 

He never did though. Whether he was stronger for it, Victor really couldn’t say. 

 

Victor should have been studying, preparing for graduation, but instead he was up at one in the morning googling kinks, limits, diving into the internet for answers. There were some things he hadn’t heard of before, which made Victor feel childish and naïve for thinking he was experienced.

 

_ I’ve been handcuffed. _

 

Yuuri must have thought he was an idiot at his response. This wasn’t a playful college hookup, or a frisky evening between longtime lovers, it was something else entirely. 

 

An  _ arrangement _ . That word stuck with Victor through all of his research. He wanted a relationship with Yuuri, wanted to wake up like he had on Sunday morning, covered in soft kisses and bathed in the morning light. Victor wanted nights on the couch watching movies, nights at fancy dinners, and nights where they did nothing but sit near each other. He thought after Sunday that maybe Yuuri would want that too. 

 

Victor expected commitment issues, was prepared for reservations on age difference, difference in wealth, he thought he had considered all the factors before he slid into Yuuri’s car that night. Was is really the offer that had him in such a state, or was it the shock?

 

After a month, Yuuri stopped calling. 

 

Part of Victor was thankful for that. He wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to keep avoiding the calls, watching them go to a voicemail that would be immediately deleted. Another part watched his phone, eyes glued to it through class, at meals, before bed, waiting for Yuuri’s name to pop up on the screen.

 

Chris gave him another week before he began to pry. Phichit had to accompany Yuuri to some charity event and the roommates were alone for dinner for the first time since the night at the bar. 

 

Boxes of Chinese food littered the coffee table and the latest rom com B movie played while the men made comments about the subpar acting and plot line.

 

“Honestly, if someone that beautiful walked up to me and said he needed me to pretend to be his boyfriend I would. No questions asked, as long as I got a piece of  _ that _ .”

 

Victor snorted at Chris’ vocalized thirst. “Is that how Phichit won you over? Is it all a ruse?”

 

Chris pointed his chopsticks at Victor with a glare. 

 

“I’ll have you know that he won me over with shots and slick moves on the dance floor.” Chris paused for a bite, and with his mouth half full continued, “And don’t get me started on the sex I mean the man’s hips are just—”

 

“Chris, I’m eating.”

 

“Fine,” his roommate huffed with an eye roll. “I’m just throwing it out there. Speaking of—how are things going with rich and handsome?”

 

“They’re not.” Victor dipped an egg roll into his soy sauce puddle and let it marinate while Christophe gave him a scrutinizing glare.

 

“Phichit said Yuuri’s been trying to get a hold of you. It takes two to tango you know.”

 

“I know,” Victor sighed. He took a bite of the egg roll, savoring the buttery, flaky exterior while he considered his words. What he wouldn’t give to come clean about everything to Chris, but even though the contract still sat in his room, blank without signatures, he wouldn’t break Yuuri’s trust, even if he’d never know.

 

“He was right, we’re just looking for different things. I don’t think I can give him what he’s looking for.”

 

“Is it a girlfriend? Are they asking you to be their third because I swore Phichit said he was completely gay—”

 

Victor couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering all of his questions the night at the bar, and Yuuri’s reassurance that men were definitely his type. “It’s nothing like that, I can’t go into it, but I just don’t think he wants a relationship is all.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Chris was quiet for a minute, content to watch the movie unfold. The heroine told her fake boyfriend that they should end things and Victor noted her crying might be some of her best work, his heartstrings were pulled even though he knew they would work everything out in the last half hour of the movie.

 

Wouldn’t it be nice if life were like that, if he and Yuuri could work everything out and end up in a happy relationship all wrapped up in a little bow. If Yuuri would burst through the door and confess that he hadn’t stopped thinking about him, rip up the contract and kiss Victor like he had in the elevator.

 

Another week went by. Yuuri hadn’t called again, but Victor hadn’t either.

 

The contract was still neatly folded on Victor's desk, tucked inside one of his textbooks, calling out to him every time he turned off the light. It had become a sort of obsession, reading the paper every night before bed. 

 

It wasn’t the submission or the kinks that gave Victor hesitation, in fact some of them had piqued his interest. No, it was the idea that the chance at a happy relationship, something that could blossom into love, into a future together, was replaced with a sexual arrangement as if he was accepting a job. He wasn’t going to be somebody’s property and it’s likely that all Yuuri’s messages tried to explain things but he couldn’t ignore the idea of it. Instead of talking to him, easing him into it, Yuuri had brought him out to a restaurant he had no business being in and handed him a contract. 

 

Yuuri has said he went to that restaurant for business dinners and at the end of the night Victor felt like that’s all that their date had been. Was he supposed to negotiate and sign, hand it back over the table, and follow Yuuri home to have planned sex? 

 

Chris stayed silent on the matter, but Victor had seen his roommate less and less over the past weeks since he had been practically living at Phichit’s apartment when the man wasn’t off with Yuuri attending big fancy events. 

 

It was more shocking to see his roommate at their apartment and Victor was startled when he saw Chris settled on the couch on a Saturday afternoon. 

 

“I wasn’t aware I still had a roommate,” Victor teased as he went to rummage in the fridge.

 

“Yes, well you can thank your little CEO friend for that. Phichit said there’s been a PR situation with Yuuri and he had to cancel our date. We were  _ supposed _ to try that new lunch cafe on Third and Main.”

 

“I don’t think you can call it friends. He stopped calling.”

 

Christophe shrugged, focused on the TV as he flipped through channels. Victor brought a bag of chips and a dish of salsa over to the coffee table, sinking into the couch beside his roommate. 

 

A soft ping interrupted their channel surfing. Chris shoved the remote into Victor’s hand and began rummaging in between couch cushions until he retrieved his phone. Victor accepted the responsibility of channel choosing and flipped through until he noticed how uncharacteristically quiet his roommate had gotten. 

 

“Victor.”

 

With a hum, Victor looked to his roommate. Chris’ face was cloudy, he stared down at his phone while chewing his lip and when his green eyes met Victor’s blues, it was clear something was wrong. 

 

“Chris? What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

 

“Turn on channel 12.”

 

Victor obediently flipped to the channel where the afternoon entertainment news was airing a clip from an evening talk show. An evening talk show who had hosted a very familiar face.

 

“Is that…?”

 

Victor trailed off. It was a stupid question, there was no mistaking that Yuuri was peering back at him from the television.

 

“I think there is somebody out there for everyone but sometimes you meet that somebody, you don’t take the chance, and you miss your opportunity.” Yuuri was finishing answering whatever question had been asked prior to them tuning in.

 

“I thought Phichit was doing a PR thing with him today?” Victor leaned forward as the interview went on, the host asking the next question.

 

“I asked what the PR thing was about. He said this aired last night, live.” Chris whispered back. Both roommates kept their eyes glued on the TV, Victor wondered why Phichit was having them watch this. It seemed like a run-of-the-mill evening TV interview, lots of celebrities of all statuses appeared from time to time to promote things.

 

“So Mr. Katsuki, would you say that you’ve met your somebody already?”

 

Yuuri looked into the camera, Victor had almost forgotten how handsome he was. He bit his lip and hesitated before answering.

 

“I did, yes.”

 

“Mr. Katsuki you’ve never dated anyone before, at least not in the public eye. Why haven’t we heard anything about your mystery girl?”

 

“ _ He _ deserved a lot more than I can give.” Yuuri responded.

 

“Oh, my apologies Mr. Katsuki. I—” The host was clearly caught off guard, not expecting her guest to come out on television obviously, but her apologies were cut off by Yuuri, who didn’t seem to particularly care about the bombshell he had just dropped.

 

“Love isn’t something I ever preoccupied myself with. I focused on business, focused on skating, focused on myself. But for the first time I found someone to truly care about, who cares about me in return, and I don’t know what that is but I’ve decided to call it love. Or some form of it. Or the beginnings of it. But it all depends on what you do with those feelings and I-I don’t think I did the right thing.”

 

The host smiled tightly at the camera, desperately trying to get the interview back on track. 

 

“Well, Mr. Katsuki I believe that—”

 

“I have to go.”

 

Yuuri tore off his microphone, throwing it onto the couch, and walked off the stage, leaving the host completely blindsided on her chair as the clip came to the close. The daytime news came back on, the anchors commenting on the clip itself but Victor barely processed the words, pulling open his phone and googling Yuuri’s name.

 

**_Katsuki Yuuri Comes Out As Gay On Live TV!_ **

_     “ _ He _ deserved a lot more than I can give.” Katsuki Yuuri, former Olympian and current model and CEO of Katsuki Hospitality surprises late night host when he revealed that he has a male love interest in his life. Katsuki is notoriously... _

 

**_MYSTERY MAN? Who Is Katsuki Yuuri’s Late Night Lover?_ **

_    Katsuki Yuuri, CEO of Katsuki Hospitality and former gold medalist in men’s figure skating, alludes to a male lover while on Friday night’s late night segment with Jenny Fillon. He then went on to confess his feelings for the man on live television... _

 

**_Former Olympian Leaves Mid-Interview After Shocking Confession_ **

_     Katsuki Yuuri unexpectedly left the Late Show With Jenny Fillon after he was asked about life and love. Katsuki corrected Jenny after she assumed he was interested in a girl. Katsuki gave a powerful statement about love before… _

 

There were several more articles, all identical, all focusing on Yuuri’s confession, intermingled with a few who claimed they knew it all along. Victor turned off the TV and for a moment he and Chris sat in silence.

 

“Wow,” Chris finally spoke. He looked over at Victor, “That had to be about you...You have to call him.”

 

“I  _ have _ to go to work.” Victor corrected. 

 

From the first step that he took off the couch, all the way until he got to the rink, Victor’s heart was in his throat and his stomach was filled with lead. He simultaneously felt as if he was floating through the air, but his feet felt heavy like cinderblocks. He didn’t know what to think.

 

Tucked behind the rental counter at the rink, Victor scrolled through his call history. It had been almost weeks since Yuuri’s last phone call. 

 

He scrolled further, back into texts, back through messages, looking for anything Yuuri had sent since their date. If he felt so strongly why hadn’t he kept calling? Why confess his feelings on television? He had Victor’s number. 

 

But Victor never answered. Victor never texted back. Victor deleted the voicemails. And Yuuri had given up. 

 

Maybe the confession wasn’t about Victor. Maybe it was about somebody he met, maybe at a bar after Victor’s rejections. A person who wanted that type of relationship, that  _ arrangement _ , and maybe that’s where Yuuri had run off to. 

 

The evening rush of classes changing over to free skate meant Victor was too busy to check his phone for the next few hours. Georgi asked if he had seen his crush’s television confession and Victor did his best to act nonchalant about the whole ordeal. 

 

Finally,  _ finally _ , the last of the skates were turned in and Victor told Georgi to head home. He would clean the last of the skates himself and he needed time on the ice to clear his head. After the last blade was wiped down and the last boot tucked back into its cubby, Victor made his way to the locker room and brought out his phone. He looked through his texts and calls, nothing new, nothing from Yuuri. He checked his messages, sometimes phones glitched and he had a tickle of hope as he switched over. 

 

There was no message. 

 

Victor pulled on his skates with a sigh, lacing them up so quickly that the aglets slapped the boot and whipped through the air with a satisfying noise. He stomped across the rubber floors and tore out onto the ice, there was no delicacy, he was overwhelmed and the faster he went the more his emotions fueled him until he felt like his lungs might burst out of his chest. His heart burned more than his legs or lungs, it ached and weighted itself into his chest. 

 

He was shaking when he slowed down, ready to collapse in the center of the ice. The anger he had for himself was gone. Any anger towards Yuuri, for giving him those papers instead of pulling him close. It dissipated onto the ice and he was left in a state of melancholy. It took two, and Victor had been the one to reject Yuuri’s advances after, he was stupid to expect that Yuuri would change his mind, it was weeks and the television thing could have just been a bad day for him.

 

Victor didn’t notice that he had started delicately gliding through a familiar routine, one devoted to life and love, one he had seen on the ice before. He could hear the music, but not in the rink, it guided Victor through the steps, the spins, but when he approached the jump, he paused.

 

“Why didn’t you jump?”

 

Another voice cut through the silence and Victor didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

 

“Why didn’t you call?”

 

“I tried, if you remember.” Yuuri stepped onto the ice, gliding effortlessly until he came to a slow stop in front of Victor. “Maybe you don’t, since you never answered.”

 

“You didn’t call today. You didn’t call after you came out on live television, confessed your feelings, and walked out of an interview.”

 

“Ah, so you did watch.”

 

“Phichit told Chris and I...I watched it this afternoon.” Victor looked at Yuuri’s soft smile, his windswept hair. He was wearing his glasses and Victor noticed he was puffy around his cheeks like he hadn’t slept well.

 

“I meant every word, Victor. I don’t care about the contract. I don’t care if you don’t want any of that, as long as you might want me. I’m not good at this, you probably know that by now. I don’t care if you’re the one part of my life that I have absolutely no control over because I want you there. 

 

I left messages, I tried to tell you. Every call I hoped you’d answer, let me explain, I wanted to beg you to rip up that stupid paper. I don’t know what I was thinking, I haven’t done anything like this and my anxiety has been through the roof since that night and I know I’m going on right now, but I need to know if there’s any chance that we could do this. Date like regular people, no lists or contracts or agreements or arrangements. Just start over, fresh.”

 

Victor was silent through Yuuri’s desperate babble. This wasn’t the calm, cool, collected man he was used to. No, this was Yuuri in his rawest form, attainable, reachable, just a breath away.

 

“What am I supposed to say?” Victor asked softly. Yuuri peered up at him through his glasses, he couldn’t tell in the dim light but there might be tears beginning to brim. 

 

“Say you’ll stay close to me.”

 

It was Victor who pulled Yuuri’s jacket, crashing their lips together in a kiss that turned his heart from heavy to weightless. He couldn’t think of anything else to say, they could talk and negotiate things for hours but that wasn’t what either of them needed. They needed this, raw and unfiltered with no facades or parameters around them. When Yuuri sank into the kiss, melting his lips around Victor’s while his hands found their way into those silver locks to pull him close, he knew they needed this too. 

 

“I’ve spent all my life chasing gold,” Yuuri laughed, “but since I met you all I’ve wanted is silver.”

 

He gave a playful tug to Victor’s hair, eliciting a chuckle from the other man. 

 

“Can I take you out again, a proper date this time?”

 

Victor nodded, pulling Yuuri in for another kiss. 

  
“Fine, but if it goes well...there  _ are _ a few things on your list that I want to try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Way, there’s been 6 chapters and no smut, I thought this was a Fifty Shades AU. IT IS. But it’s a healthier one, in other words, smut ahead, I promise.
> 
> Thank you for those of you who have stuck through the hiatus and are still throwing kudos and comments, I love you all.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr, [TheWaywardSong](https://thewaywardsong.tumblr.com/)!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to finally post this story! I just want to make a little disclaimer that any BDSM depicted in this story is sane and consensual without the controlling toxic aspects of the book/movies that the title references. Think of it as a fun parody. 
> 
> Make sure you check out the amazing story art linked above, and come find me on [Tumblr](https://thewaywardsong.tumblr.com/) where I post all my fics and art.


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